Minerva
by his-little-troll
Summary: After years of searching, Kakashi finds a dramatically different wife than he remembers. How broken is this new yet familiar woman? K/S
1. Minerva I

**Pink I**

_**Well you were a dancer and I was a rag,**_

_**The song in my head,**_

_**Well, it was all that I had**_

Pink hair fell messily into her face as she looked into her captor's eyes. There was an unreadable expression there, as though a light had flickered on for a moment before dying out. A tell-tale scar peeked out from the top of his half mask and cut through a spinning tomoe in his mismatched gaze. Intriguing white, or maybe silver, hair peeked through. Even still, she did not get the impression of an old man. Just as she doubted her feral appearance made her look as sweet as her pink hair usually implied. Maybe this explained her ability to look beyond the physical and into the slight.

Every tug on her new restraints resulted in a perfectly proportionate tug back. She tested every way she thought of to relieve herself of the rough rope, without even minimal success. With each attempt he stopped and turned to her, as if letting her know he had caught her. He showed unflappable patience and never said a word. It was strange to walk in silence. She felt as though he should be talking, scolding, yelling; angry.

It was his stiff steps, the way his shoulders stood rigidly and his arms tensed. His steps spoke of war and pain and struggle. Unflinching eyes cooled the heat of the day and put a shuffle in her feet. This man was strength and calm incarnate. She had not been found by a simpering boy, but a full man. To escape would be difficult; near impossible. Even so, there was no doubt as she gave up removing her bindings that she would eventually make her way home… Wherever home may be.

It was well past nightfall when they stopped to rest. The man quickly set up a fire, dragging her along all the way. Once the fire was steady he simply sat and stared at her for a good while. His face never faltered, as smooth as undisturbed water. He had covered the disturbing red eye with a headband that looked much like the one she had awoken to several years earlier. She used to carry it but a dark haired boy with the same red eyes had bought it from her for a rather large sum, and without explanation he had promised to return. She wondered briefly if maybe the two were related. They both had a similar, yet vastly different, aura of coldness. If so, it would explain the boy's desperation to retrieve the headband.

Recognizing relief, she closed her eyes. To allow herself the luxury of relaxation would jeopardize her safety and the safety of the few who depended on her. Just because he may be related to the foolish boy that had found her before did not mean either of them were kind. Too often people she had known had fallen victim to the comfort of familiarity. It was a flaw in the nature of humans that she had tried several times to overcome. Unfortunately, such deeply ingrained habits were difficult to break.

She was startled to realize he was speaking to her. His question had passed without really sinking in and now he stared at her awaiting an answer. Her clueless eyes must have given away her inattention. With a cleared throat he asked again.

"What is your name? How did you come to be in the forest?" Despite the question he seemed to already expect a particular answer. As though her life were a test, he knew the right response. Bemused, she wondered what he thought he knew.

"My name is a secret. I have been in the forest for as long as I can remember. The people I have come from believe that giving a person your name gives them power over you. I'm sorry; I cannot give so much to a stranger." With each word she straightened her back and lifted her chin, sitting like the Queen she had become.

"Then I assume you will understand when I do not tell you mine." A slight nod acknowledged that she would understand. "I have been sent to seek you out. We'll have to talk to my leader and see what we are to do."

"I do not know what you want from me, but I need to return to the People. If I am gone too long, they will search for me. And when they find me, I would not want to be your village. They are very protective of their own."

She kept her voice calm and level, though her heart fluttered heavily. Her people were few in number, and new to the ruthlessness of war. Even with an unsurpassed thirst for the skills she had taught them, and exceptional success at the foreign techniques, they would be no match for a full population. She could only hope to bluff her way through this. Once she was back where she belonged, she would start the trek to new ground. Even if these strangers weren't threatening, her people may not care. Of course, why bind a person if you mean them no harm?

"We are protective of our own too," was his only reply. He cast a strange look in her direction but didn't elaborate. Instead he turned away from her, holding her rope and watching the sky above. With desperation he seemed to be searching the stars for an answer to an unknown question. He was still stargazing when she slid asleep.

The next morning she awoke to find herself wrapped in the man's arms. Silver hair tickled her cheek and his face greeted her with a gentle visage of sleep. A faint scent of sandalwood and leather spun a web of comfort around her senses and the rhythm of his heart felt disarming. His mask still covered his mouth and nose, but the headband had been removed at some point in the night. The red tomoe was invisible beneath the closed lids; however, that did not make him any less contradictory. A smooth, unblemished lid seemed to belong to someone else entirely than the dangerously scarred, rough skin opposite it.

There was an unexpected blanket of safety clinging to her. She had not felt this way in as long as she could remember. What could be so different, so familiar, about this man? This question curled into her mind as the birds chirped and the sun rose. Before she recognized the opportunity of escape she found herself staring not at his mismatched lids, but the eyes below them. For the briefest of moments pain cut through his apathetic façade and a strangled gasp belied every moment she had spent with him.

And then it was over, as soon as it had begun. The damage was done. Curiosity stirred deep in her gut and she knew that she would not rest until she found out why the sight of her had caused him so much grief.

"Sorry, I must have gotten cold in the night." Ignoring the moment of weakness, he stood and cleared their campsite of any signs of habitation. "Old ninja habit to huddle together for warmth." His eyes avoided hers.

She knew it was a lie. Ninja only did such an invasive thing in extreme conditions. Not only did her infallible instinct tell her as much, but she had several contacts in that world. She had never heard of the practice becoming habit.

"You must travel to cold places often." Using her voice as a soothing balm, she tried to gently probe for more information.

"You could say that." He seemed to understand the powers of elusion.

"Many people can say many things. How do you know that I do not already know who you are?" His back stiffened, his grip tightening on the thick binding he drug her by.

"Why would you know anything about me?" Even his words were clipped and tight, as though he expected her response to throw a whip of flames across his back.

"Gossip, to put it simply. How many people do you think run around with mismatched eyes and silver hair?" It was a lie of course. There were no such characters in any of the conversations she had managed to 'overhear'. Even still, his body slackened.

"Then you have heard nothing. If you had… Well, we would not be talking about this right now." With that he carried on walking. Despite all her most valiant efforts she could not pull any more information from those hidden lips. Even casual conversation had ended with his silence. From morning to night, they continued their trek to her unknown prison.

Once again this night, she followed him as he gathered supplies to build a fire. He had stopped glancing at her so often. Now he spent his time staring forward into the forest and occasionally following the trail of a critter that skittered across the trees. Once he had a sizable pile of sticks and tinder he sat and began setting it aflame.

"You have an air to you. The People call it éadóchas. It makes you seem so much… Older." The observation tugged a wry, albeit tiny smirk.

"What does that word mean?" It was a language he had never heard spoken before.

"I do not know exactly how to translate it. It is deeper and more than sadness. It is as though you have been to heaven and fallen." The wry smile fell away and she found herself looking into a surprised face.

"That is a fitting description, then." The quiet settled in again.

Suffocating silence filled the air around her. The need for conversation overwhelmed her. He did not seem to want to harm her, but there was a sense that he could not stand the sight of her. Though at first his one good eye seemed to drag his gaze to her, there was never a clear indication of why. Now there was not even that amount of attention from him. How was she going to find out what his hurt reaction was over if she could barely get him to look at her?

"So, the people you speak of… What is your place in them?" The words were spoken hesitantly. That one quizzical eye was rooted on her.

She faced a dilemma. The People did not believe in lying. Yet, she could see several situations where revealing that she was their leader would be unwise. One does not reveal that the opposition already has the most important piece of the game. How could she tell him the truth in a way that would not reveal too much? "I am the mother. I keep peace for the people and teach them." She hoped the metaphor was lost on him. It was hard to be sure when the only reaction was a pale face.

"I'm sorry I asked." He started to turn away. The thought of that suffocation made her heart clench.

"What about you? What is your place?" The question fell from her lips without a hint of the desperation behind them.

"I am a ninja. I fight; I bring war to make peace. I rescue. I survive." Of course, she had already known what his place was in life. The telltale signs of the ninja were all there. And ninja were simply weapons, warriors.

"Sounds dreary." She looked into the fire and gave a defeated sigh.

"It is." The color had not returned to his face and he seemed more distant than ever. Once he was finished with his meager traveling meal he began to get ready for bed.

"Are you not worried I'll run away?" He had tied the rope to the tree he rested against and turned his back to her.

"Of course I am. But I can not baby sit you all night. At some point I have to sleep. I just happened to get tired before you tonight." He turned around and pierced her with an intense stare of red and gray.

Initially it took her breath away and that was all she could see. And then she noticed a sharp cut jaw, high cheek bones, a roman nose. For a moment she saw him laughing, filled with joy that would make most men envious. All too soon she realized this was just a thought, a projection of her mind onto the somber man in front of her. A dusty eyebrow lifted at her ogling and she felt her face heat in a blush. The vision had seemed so clear.

"Anyway, if you think I won't track you, then you are mistaken. I have not searched this long for you to just disappear again." Once again his back was to her.

"Why were you looking for me?" Although she knew he was awake, she did not repeat herself when he did not answer. It would have been a waste of breath. Instead she spent the night trying to cut through the rope.


	2. Silver I

**Silver I**

_**Raise my hands;**_

_**Paint my spirit gold,**_

_**And bow my head;**_

_**Keep my heart low.**_

'_**Cause I will wait I will wait for you…**_

He stared with disbelief at the messy pink hair, glittering green eyes, and porcelain skin. It was as though an angel of war stood in behind him. She had put up quite a fight at first. Now her escape attempts were reduced to inquisitive tugs on the rope and fidgeting with the knot around her wrist. There was no hint of chakra use. All of her fighting had been hand to hand combat.

He had hoped when his eye had managed to roam across the gray of the tree branches and sky and spotted a surprising splash of pink. Too many times his heart had spiked at a false alarm. Something had told him that this was different. So he pursued. It had taken him nearly a day, but he managed to track her down. She had been running from him the whole time, keeping just out of his reach. If he had taken a break for even a moment he would have lost her.

Once he had finally cornered her, his spirits crashed. Those beautiful green eyes he had spent only a scant few months staring into held no recognition for his face. Hesitancy knew no home in her attacks. It never appeared to dawn on her that at one point they had known each other; that they had been everything once.

Still, he had determinedly tied her hands and now spent the day and into the night dragging her back to Konoha. He had always hoped to find her and now that he had, he would not release her without getting his fair chance to have her back for good. Where there was a will, there was a way. As it just so happened, he knew where a lot of will resided in his hometown.

As they made their way through the forest, he felt her gaze burning through his back. Nerves made his muscles tense, his mind paranoid, every sense on edge. He had only been married to her for eight months before she had disappeared in the dead of the night. She had been gone nearly five years. Naruto had sworn that she was kidnapped, swept away by shadows. He had feared the worst when a year had gone by without her return. Doubts planted themselves deep within his heart when no body was ever found. She was a well known ninja, the apprentice to Tsunade herself. If someone had kidnapped her, surely they would have bragged about it by now? If she was dead, surely someone would have brought back the body? Could she have run away?

It was only two years ago that rumors of a pink haired wild woman started spreading. She never stayed in one spot for too long. The last few years that she was gone seemed to fall away. His search, which had dwindled to constant scouting on every mission (and he went on a lot of missions) now took on an obsessed quality. He no longer took official jobs, just went away for months searching. With all the work he had taken on, he had no need for money for quite a while. It was just him in his lonely little home. He would come back to rest up and to make sure she had not wondered home while he was out. The longer he stayed in town, the more sure he was that if he had been searching for her that day he would have found her.

He was still pondering what to say to her when he realized that it had been dark for quite some time. Unwilling to take his eyes off of her for even a moment, he pulled her around while he set up the fire. Once it was done and they sat together, there was silence. The air felt heavy and still. When he could take no more, he sucked in a breath and held it all for courage. Shoot for the basics. "Who are you? What are you doing in the forest?"

He looked at her while he waited for the answer. There was no immediate laughter, no angry stare. There was no recognition of how she should answer the question. He was just about to wonder if she had maybe suffered some kind of damage when she refocused and looked at him helplessly. Apparently, she had not been listening. With far less bravery this time, he asked again. Surely she remembered something? Anything?

"My name is a secret. I have been in the forest for as long as I can remember. The people I have come from believe that giving a person your name gives them power over you. I'm sorry; I cannot give so much to a stranger." She suddenly seemed proud, regal. Confidence oozed from her pores like she owned the ground beneath her. Despite his renowned skill set he managed to feel small in those emerald stones.

"Then I assume you will understand when I do not tell you mine." Only a slight nod was received in affirmation. This was reminiscent of the girl he remembered, yet vastly different. "I have been sent to seek you out. We'll have to talk to my leader and see what we are to do." What she is to do, and if she could manage to heal this broken memory.

"I do not know what you want from me, but I need to return to the People. If I am gone too long, they will search for me. And when they find me, I would not want to be your village. They are very protective of their own." Although she said the words with confidence, her face flushed just slightly. Did she not trust the loyalty of her people as much as she pretended? Would they come back for someone they could not possibly know very deeply?

"We are protective of our own too." All hopes he may have had that she actually did know anything receded as she had no response. With the last of his will giving out, he turned away to try and think through the puzzle in his mind.

He had always imagined finding her. It would go one of two ways, depending on if it was a nightmare or a dream. She would either jump into his arms and tell him how much she had missed and loved him as he led them home… Or she would look at him with anger and hatred and tell him that she had left for a reason. That he should never have come to find her. Whether there was a daring rescue, or simply stumbling across her in the woods, there were only two outcomes.

After the rumors of the wild haired woman had reached Fire Country he had nearly resigned himself to her willing abandonment. Now that he had found her, however, he still could not be sure. She still could have left on her own. Anything could happen outside the gates of the cities. Or she could have been kidnapped as Naruto said. He would not know unless he got her to Tsunade.

By the time he had turned back around to check on her she was asleep. He could not help the fond memories that flooded his heart. She still slept the exact same way after all this time. Her pink hair may have grown, her clothes may have changed, she may remember nothing, but in her core there was something of his wife still there. Without caring, he sat beside her. Idle fingers smoothed the tangled mass of hair on her head and slid down the curve of her cheek. There were so many moments he wished he could share with her.

The next morning, he woke to the feel of someone staring at him. He did not have to open his eyes to see who it was. The faintest hint of candy tickled his nose. He could almost hear her laughing and telling him to get out of bed. Even still, he did not relinquish his hold. He would enjoy every moment here until she batted him on the nose like she had every morning since they were married…

Something about the thought jarred his eyes open. The woman he saw was not the one he expected. The well groomed, fair little lady did not greet him. Instead he saw a rough and gruff warrior, inspecting him like one inspects a questionable lunch. Such a realization tore through the last sleepy moments of his dream and hurled him with a ferocious snarl into reality. A reality where his loving wife did not know him and possibly did not want him. A reality where his loving wife no longer existed in this stranger before him.

He was sure he gaped like a fish out of water. Instant questions filled her expression, but he could not face them. Vaguely he murmured some sort of apology as he busied himself with cleaning camp. It would be a long while before he would be able to look at her again.

She made some off handed comment about him visiting cold places. Although he was sure it had something to do with what he had said, it did not seem to matter much right now. And then she said something that sent a chill racing down his spine.

"Many people can say many things. How do you know that I do not already know who you are?"

"Why would you know anything about me?" Absolutely no expectations presented themselves. He would be disappointed by whatever came out of her mouth next.

"Gossip, to put it simply. How many people do you think run around with mismatched eyes and silver hair?" And immediately he knew she was lying. If she had heard anything at all about him, she would know that he had been searching for her.

"Then you have heard nothing. If you had… Well, we would not be talking about this right now." That was all he said. It was all he could say. Begging her to remember would do no good, and trying to remind her would not either.

He spent the rest of the day not looking at her. By the time they reached a suitable camp a good portion of his hurt and shock from the morning had worn off. So when she spoke, he was willing to listen this time.

"You have an air to you. The People call it éadóchas. It makes you seem so much… Older." It was an observation that she had always pointed out before. Apparently memory loss brought no changes in that regard.

"What does that word mean?" It was a language he had never heard spoken before.

"I do not know exactly how to translate it. It is deeper and more than sadness. It is as though you have been to heaven and fallen." The description was so adequate, it nearly made him drop his fire stick.

"That is a fitting description, then." The quiet settled in again.

As he continued setting up camp he noticed her getting more and more restless. If any of the woman he knew remained, she was becoming uncomfortable due to the sheer awkwardness of their silence. Ignoring her fidgeting, he looked her over. There were no obvious signs of mishandling or torture. She seemed mentally sound, despite her obvious lack of memory. There were no definite signs of marriage or child-bearing. If anything, her body was more lean and toned than before, a mark of a true weapon. Most people did not leave their weapons to child-rearing. And he could not see her in any situation leaving behind children.

"So, the people you speak of… What is your place in them?" He felt the words leave his mouth and immediately wanted to swallow them back up. What if the answer was… disheartening?

"I am the mother. I keep peace for the people and teach them." Even with the awkward phrasing, this did not sound like the answer he was hoping for. Cold numbed his lips as the color drained from his face.

"I'm sorry I asked." With only the one answer, he had asked enough questions for the night.

"What about you? What is your place?"

"I am a ninja. I fight; I bring war to make peace. I rescue. I survive." He had assumed this was obvious. A civilian not recognizing him as a ninja rarely happened. Yet, she was not really a civilian was she?

"Sounds dreary." Defeat fell like bricks from the words. More than likely she had been hoping for more information on what she probably thought of as her opponent.

"It is." He could not handle more of this conversation. With silence he turned and stared at the roots of the tree opposite him. Though he was not tired, there had to be more hope in silence than in talking.

"Are you not worried I'll run away?" An idea struck him. It may be his only hope.

"Of course I am. But I can not baby sit you all night. At some point I have to sleep. I just happened to get tired before you tonight." Holding his breath he turned and looked at her, pulling his mask down. With just a small fraction of power, he applied the Sharingan.

She gasped, taking in his features. Hope bubbled up in his chest like a poisonous brew. Each feature got extra attention as she carried the small power of the Sharingan to its end. Her brow furrowed as she stared at his mouth and he wondered if she remembered kisses, conversations, moments forever carved into his memory. Raising his eyebrows inquisitively, he saw the moment she returned from the Sharingan effects. And still, no recognition. The rising tide of despair almost spilled over, yet he managed to turn away just in time.

"Anyway, if you think I won't track you, then you are mistaken. I have not searched this long for you to just disappear again." His voice seemed too weak to even carry to the gnarled tree knots.

"Why were you looking for me?" There was no good answer for that. How does one tell a stranger of forgotten love? She did not ask again.


	3. Minerva II

**Pink II**

_**We danced in the summer, she doesn't remember what I said;**_

_**You can stay if you want to, there's no one to stop you;**_

_**Decide, decide, decide…**_

_**Decide, decide, decide…**_

She worked on the rope until morning. It was slow progress and it left her tired down to her bones the next morning, but it would be worth it. If she could keep from being discovered until tonight she would be able to finish breaking the bonds and get away while he slept. Of course, that would be two sleepless nights. She could only hope that he did not wake until she was a good distance away. Otherwise she would be caught again.

It had not been a fluke that he had managed to capture her in the first place. Once he had locked onto her, he had been impossible to shake. It had taken nearly a day of chasing and capture and escaping for him to finally wear her out. Before she could even think of trying again her hands were tied and the run was over.

She had just dropped the rope and lay down when she saw him stir. Rather than pretend she had been sleeping, she acted as though she had just awoken. With a yawn and a bit of a stretch, both of which were entirely sincere, she stood. While he gathered up the supplies and cleaned up the fire she tried to figure out how to hide her progress. Although she had worked only on the bottom half, there were frayed bits that would catch his eye.

By the time he came back around to untie her from the root she had given enough lax to the rope to keep the tear from being obvious. Unless he immediately searched for it, it would be well hidden. She would just have to keep close.

He started to walk away. Scurrying, she stayed right behind him. He gave her a confused look but continued to walk on. Holding in her sigh of relief she tried to think of things to fill the time.

"So where exactly are we going?"

"You'll know when we get there."

"Just an innocent inquiry. So why have you taken me?" This question seemed to falter his steps, but only slightly.

"I am not sure explaining that would be beneficial."

"Try me." Pouting her lip and furrowing her eyes, she tried to put on her most stubborn expression. For a moment he just stared at her, and then he sighed.

"At one point there was a woman in my village. She was a great warrior with many friends. Everyone at home depended on her. Many legends are told from battles she fought. She's been missing for years now. We believe you may know something about this woman." Sincerity rang through his voice, but she was unsure whether to believe him. Something was missing in his story.

"What did she look like?" She glanced at his face, watching for the tell tale signs of a lie.

"Her eyes are green, colored like the foam of the sea. At the time she had short hair, and a petite frame. Her skin is pale and features are hard from years of fighting and work. She wore red often, and smiled more than that." This personal, longing description was unexpected. How much had this woman meant to him?

"That is a very interesting description. I assume you two were close?"

There was a hesitancy in his response. "She is my wife." More telling than the description he gave was the way he said everything about her in present tense, as if he was sure she still lived. He still loved this woman very much, and had great hope that she would be found. The thought of this man in love prickled in the back of her brain like an aggravating buzz.

"Have you considered that she may be dead? You did say she's been missing for a while." Even to her own ears there was an unnecessary harshness to the words.

"I know she's alive. I have known it on some level since the day she left." Those last two words seemed to have flown under his radar and right out of his lips without any thought.

"She left?"

For several minutes they continued in silence. Irritation broke like waves on her skin. This was the most she had learned about him since he started chasing her. The things he told her were close to the heart. Despite this, she felt irrationally angry and hurt. Even knowing that there was no reason for her displeasure did not seem to dissipate it. With no real explanation, she chalked it up to his lack of response to her final question.

To her surprise, he broke the silence on his own. "I do not really know for sure if she left me or if she was stolen. One of our mutual friends said that he saw her taken by shadows. He is known to be theatrical and…" The rest seemed unforthcoming.

"You don't know if you can trust him? Doesn't seem like much of a friend." Her flippant assumption gained her a glare.

"He is honest to a fault. However, he also wants to believe the very best of her. This has always been true, and sometimes it has made him oblivious to things she has done." It appeared no matter what he said, there was some distrust lurking in the mechanisms of his thoughts. He apparently just shifted from person to person.

"So then you don't want to think the best of her?"

"I never said that."

"But you don't believe your friend, who wants to think the best of her. You could just as easily believe him."

"It's none of your business."

"I bloody well think it is my business if you're going to kidnap me to help find this woman! Why is it you want to think your wife left you?" She saw him close his eyes and breath in a silent, deep breath. Her ears could almost hear him counting down his frustration.

"I did not kidnap you." His jaw stiffened and his eyes turned away from her. Apparently, that was all he had to say on the subject.

Of course that made absolutely no sense. There was never anything more obvious to her than the fact that this man had kidnapped her. They continued their walk with occasional light conversation but most often silence.

He set up camp again that night, like any other night. Today had seemed so much quicker and farther than any of their previous days. She could not help the nagging feeling that he was onto her plot, and was trying to tire her out. More than once her feet stumbled where they would have been nimble and hesitated where they would have flown. Regardless, she managed to stay awake long after he had slept. When she was sure of his even breathing and quiet snores, she sat up from her stiff bed on the ground and resumed her tearing.

She was at it for a few hours at the very least before the thin strand holding the fabricated binds together finally ripped apart. For a moment her tired eyes merely stared at her freed hands in lazy wonder. Once it finally dawned on her that she was in the first phase of her escape her mind suddenly spasmed into action. With a rush of adrenaline she sprung forward on her shaking legs and retrieved his supply pack. She paused for a moment before scrambling up a tree and going as quietly as she could to the next one. The risk of him hearing her rustling around in the branches for the next few trees was outweighed by the lack of a ground trail. She could be nearly invisible in the trees.

She had gone only a few miles when she heard heavy breathing below her. This was a woman's breath, shallow and tried. The steps were light, but burdened. This person had seen her and was struggling to catch up.

Climbing to higher branches, she tried to concentrate on the person below her. They were not yet in sight, but it was apparent they were not far behind. Heavy breathing proved they were not as skilled as she, nor her captor, at stealth. If she did not deal with whoever this was, they were sure to lead him to her. She could not afford that until after she had caught up on sleep and could outwit or outrun him.

Having made up her mind, she waited. She crouched on a low hanging branch and watched for the woman to show her face. Before long she saw blue eyes appear from the green of the trees. They were wide like the eyes of a doe as they face down the hunter. Set into pale skin and surrounded by fire breathing hair, the appearance was that of a very distinctive Sister. Dropping in front of the familiar face, she enveloped the panicked woman in a hug.

"Sister! How are you?" She kept her voice low, but the delight at seeing her friend was apparent.

"Not well. Since you have disappeared, the People have walked on. They left me behind to search for you so I could tell you where they are going. They did not want to move until they had found you but there was not enough food in the area to support a large group like us. You must come with me. Few of us are well. There is an illness going around. A pain in the mind, like a cut from the inside. There are some that are laying in cots screaming without relief."

Bad news is not what she expected or needed. Closing her eyes, she breathed in a deep calming breath and let it out her nose. "Is there anything that can be done?"

"Not that we can find. This is bigger than us. This… This can not be dealt with by the People."

"There have been sicknesses before. Surely this-"

"No. Nothing like this has ever happened to us. I mean no disrespect, but we can not handle this on our own." The fear was tangible in those blue eyes. Her companions bottom lip quivered and her hands rung. Whatever was happening was really serious. How had she missed it? Why was she not sick?

"I will do my best. Do not follow me. I will have to pretend to be a prisoner. There will be help. Find them, and tell them not to worry." Something her captor had said echoed in her mind. 'We'll have to talk to my leader…' Maybe this town will have something to help them. This leader would have to tell her.

She headed back to the camp where the silver haired man slept. All the while she thought of what her comrade had told her. Worry distracted her from her tired mind and exhausted body, leading her to the camp on autopilot. She was so concerned that she did not notice at first the upright, taut back, the dark circled eyes, the grimaced lips, the silently fuming expression.

"So, you didn't think I noticed you left?" The voice was the same venomous cool from when he first found her. It was like getting dowsed with ice water, shoving reality down her throat with uncaring roughness.

"If so, why did you not catch me again?" Exhaustion robbed her of her ability to be defensive.

"I wanted to see where you would go. You are not a prisoner." Even that suggestion made her chuckle.

"What else do you call a person that is bound and being taken to a place they do not want to go?"

"I can not explain it to you yet, but you are not a prisoner. The leader I mentioned, she can help. She is a healer, although do not think that makes her any less than a fighter. Only the strongest of the ninja in my town get to lead."

"That seems a ridiculous way to get a job; but if she can help I will not argue with you. Have you ever heard of an illness that does this?"

"Not something in a prolonged state. It could be merely one major symptom among many smaller ones, or it may be the illness itself. It could be any number of things. A headache isn't exactly uncommon."

"Do you think we've never had headaches before? She would not be so worried over a headache." Her brow furrowed and her lips pouted in defiance. Her entire people could be suffering horribly and here he was claiming it was just a headache. It did not help that he smiled so crooked a smile, like he had just played a joke on her. The incorrigible man probably found himself amusing or witty.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch, little girl. I was not insinuating that she was over reacting." Her face turned red and she continued scowling as he finished up cleaning camp.

The rest of their walk that day was quiet, though the uncomfortable silence had subsided. Now that there were equal benefits to be gained the playing field was leveled. He apparently no longer felt the need to tie her up, so the tension that comes from being imprisoned dissipated like smoke. Along with this new easiness was a strange coiling in her chest. Every step seemed to be familiar and yet new. It almost seemed as though her body already knew the steps and expected her to know them too. Despite her sleepless nights she breezed through the rough terrain.

As stressed minds are wont to do, she found her thoughts drifting aimlessly. Things like his expression and seriousness crossed her mind. In the next instant she might be thinking of how hungry she was, or about where the People were going to go. She had just begun to concentrate on the strange image that had invaded her mind the first time she had seen him when she suddenly collided with a strong, sturdy back. The force pushed her back onto her bum and sent her arms flailing through the air with frantic urgency. Without direction she grabbed a fistful of shirt and pulled, surprising herself with a man dragged down with her.

He did not miss a beat. Once he began falling he immediately twisted his torso and jutted out his towering arms. Somehow, with meager inches between them, he had managed to hold himself above her thin body. Still gripped in her hand was a piece of his shirt that had torn off in the chaos. Trembling, she wondered if he was angry. There was certainly a brightness to his eyes that had not been present before. Something akin to fire lit his clashing eyes as he scowled down at her.

"Watch it." Even though she had only known him a few days, she was already accustomed to the cold, mechanic tone to his voice. Therefore the rough aggravation she detected there seemed wildly misplaced. It was only an accident after all.

"Just a bump. You didn't even hit the ground." He did not respond. As a matter of fact, he refused to respond for the rest of the day. It seemed irrational, but she could not help but feel defensive and agitated that he had so easily become annoyed at her.

That night when they lay down to camp, she lay down and fell immediately into sleep. She did not even dream, just slept deeply.

Through her slumber she felt a slithering warmth curl itself around her person.


	4. Silver II

And high up above or down below

When you're too in love to let it go

But if you never try you'll never know

Just what you're worth

Silver II

"So then you don't want to think the best of her?" She had been twisting his words since this conversation started. He did not know why he had such a hard time believing Naruto. At first it had been hope, and then it had been this cloud in his mind. Nothing was easier to him than to believe that someone else had abandoned him.

"I never said that."

"But you don't want to believe your friend, who wants to think the best of her. You could just as easily believe him."

She knew nothing of him. Trust had never been easy. Even people he thought he trusted he could not truly be certain of. "It's none of your business." He could hear the growl of frustration in his own voice.

"I bloody well think it is my business if you're going to kidnap me to find this woman! Why is it you want to think your wife left you?"

He sucked in a breath at hearing his wife say he kidnapped her. "I did not kidnap you." There was no way to explain it and no way to help it, but he felt better for defending himself.

He heard her moving around on her little spot of dirt after he had feigned sleep. The night before she had thought that she was being sneaky by tearing her bindings throughout the night. Today she had stumbled and staggered her way through their route until she forcibly kept herself awake to finish her work. This was a mistake she would have never made before. Fortunately for him, she did not remember how he slept and so when he snored softly and lowered his breath to deep, quiet rhythms she accepted that as proof that he was out.

It was a few hours later that she finally started clambering around to get away. He wondered for only a moment which path she would take and was surprised to hear her hop into the trees. He would have to wait until she had managed to get ahead before he took after her.

Once she had slithered her way into the shadows, he pulled himself as silently as he could onto the lowest branch. It was not hard to discern where she had been, as her steps were not as light as they once were. She still used absolutely no chakra to make her steps as quick and sure as before she disappeared. Taking that into consideration, he was surprised at how well she had evaded him earlier. Though he soon found that even if she had left no trace, he would not have worried. Someone followed her aside from him, with heavy breathing and crashing footsteps. Surely they were not trying to sneak up on her?

He had just seen her climbing when he leaped into a thick bundle of leaves. Had she looked down and seen him he was sure she would have dashed off again. It was a cautious game he played, keeping her just ahead enough to find out where she was going and just close enough to catch her again when he had figured out all he wanted. The only reason he had succeeded thus far was due to her belief that he was still asleep. The intruder was getting closer.

The clumsy follower was a woman who clutched a simple frock above the knees while she shook fiery hair from her face. The poor female appeared quite distressed as she ran straight into his wife's open arms. After a second of calming down the newcomer started chattering nervously. The words were quick and high-pitched so that they were hard to understand. He caught something about a sharp headache, and the People being sick. The news was obviously not expected. The flower colored run away closed her eyes and thought for a moment. He could almost see the moment she decided to go back.

"I will do my best. Do not follow me. I will have to pretend to be a prisoner. There will be help. Find them, and tell them not to worry." And with that she was off.

Unanswered questions sprung forward as he rushed back to beat her to camp. How did she know Tsunade would be able to help if she did not remember the woman? Did she instead expect him to help? Did she plan to tell him she had run away? What was this headache that the "People" suffered from? There were so many questions that just continued to build. Even with so many variables to consider, he could not help but reflect on how she kept calling herself a prisoner. Though it was unreasonable to expect her to understand, the continued use of that word grated on his nerves. All of this time he had pictured himself as the hero, come to rescue her from her troubles. He had expected to find her and have some definitive outcome one way or the other. Now he was stuck in limbo again, unknowing whether she would choose to stay with him or leave after she got her memory back. That is, if she ever did get her memory back. He could not rule out the idea that she may never remember him. How could he ever expect to gain her back to him if she though he had kidnapped her.

He entered camp a good ten minutes before her, and though he tried not to, he stewed on his unstable situation. By the time she reached camp he had worked himself into a simmering outburst waiting to happen.

"So, you didn't think I noticed you left?" He kept his voice calm as ever.

"If so, why did you not catch me again?" She sounded tired and broken.

"I wanted to see where you would go. You are not a prisoner." The chuckle she threw at him made his blood rise.

"What else do you call a person that is bound and being taken a place they do not want to go?" He knew there was no way to explain it that she would understand.

"I can't explain it to you yet, but you are not a prisoner. The leader I mentioned, she can help. She is a healer, although do not think that makes her any less a fighter. Only the strongest of the ninja in my town get to lead."

"That sounds like a ridiculous way to get a job; but if she can help I will not argue with you. Have you ever heard of an illness that does this?"

They talked about this strange symptom for a small while. During the discussion he managed to annoy her just as he used to and the nostalgia nearly knocked him from his feet. Surprisingly, she kept up with him exceedingly well. Though they remained silent most of the walk, the element of hostility that had existed before seemed to disappear. This allowed his mind to wander. He found breathing was much easier knowing that she needed him now, thus she would not be running away at every opportunity. The relief was more than just good for his head; it also helped him on security. Now that he did not have to worry as much about her, he could easily allow more attention to their surroundings. With no idea of why she had disappeared all those years ago he could not be sure that there would not be consequences for taking her back home.

From the nearest tree to the right he heard a non-animal movement. The noise was not soft or natural for such a calm forest. He paused to listen. They were only a day or so out from town. A highly likely prospect was that someone else was leaving out for a mission this way, but even so he would prefer to keep her exposure minimal until they reached the village. Suddenly he felt a small body collide roughly with his before a strong grasp began to pull him down with her. Reacting on instinct forced him to turn and catch himself on his hands. The position he found himself in was compromising to say the least. Her green eyes stared at him fearfully as she clutched the torn piece of his shirt in front of her as if to protect herself with it. For days he had kept the distance between them very comfortable and strict. Now the reason for such precautions bombarded his senses. She was wilder then he remembered, yes, but that did not change much.

Instead she was more potent than ever. Her smell, which had tickled his sensitive nose mercilessly for days, now enveloped him in a familiar cloud. Her hair pleaded for his touch and her eyes remained the same eyes that had stared at him on their wedding night. The unfairness of it all forced him to stand and try to reign in the warring emotions and impulses. With far more aggravation than he felt he barked out a reprimand and continued walking. For the rest of the day he was holed up in his mind, ignoring any of her attempts to talk to him for fear that he would burst forth with a flood of all the memories his ever tortured thoughts shoved forward.

That night she fell asleep quickly and without fuss. Silently, he slid behind her and wrapped his arms around the petite frame. Immediately the racing memories subsided and left him to enjoy holding her for a few hours. The next day they would be in town and he would be forced to hand her over to Tsunade for healing and inquiries. If she even managed to remember him, that would not guarantee she would want him. There was no doubt in his mind that tomorrow would be a pivotal moment in his life.


	5. Minerva III

**One more for the stars, in the eyes of the walls.**

**I saw your face, I heard you calling out.**

**I saw your face and you came out,**

**Just like the sun and moon and the stars at night.**

Pink II

When she awoke the next morning, the warmth from the night had disappeared. Instead, the man she had been caught, dragged, and now lead by was gathering up the supplies and clearing out camp. With a yawn and a stretch she stood and started clearing out her own spot. Though the People were nomadic by nature, she missed the feeling of home. She had been scouting when she was captured so she had not been home in months. In her stead she had left one of the Brothers in charge. Now she had to wonder if there was anyone to lead since most of the People were sick.

Her dreams last night had shown no signs of this worry. Instead she had dreamt of her captor smiling and laughing with the dark haired boy from before. The mismatched eyes had crinkled at the corners and the silver hair flopped lazily to one side like it did now, but something had been different. This time there was no hint of restraint when he had looked to her and talked carefree. And though she responded, no words came out. The entire dream had been on mute. At first this detail had not bothered her. As the dream continued her inability to break the silence became suffocating. Right before she had been jolted awake, the two men had begun to fade away. They had become blurry and dark until they had disappeared altogether and she was just left with a dark and barren room.

According to her kidnapper turned escort they would be arriving at the town that day. Considering that they had walked for a week, this was a great relief. She was unsure how long the People had been sick and therefore was unsure how much longer they could go without treatment. The sheer volume of things she was unsure of made her nervous and agitated. For all she knew there were Brothers and Sisters already dying. As soon as they entered town she would demand to be immediately taken to the leader.

They travelled until midday. At that time they came upon a gate that the man stood at for a moment. Some other man leaned over the gatekeeper's box and waved them ahead. Once inside she was surprised. For some reason she had expect a bustling and crowded city. Seeing instead a quiet and friendly village crushed her expectations. Now she was without any clue as to what to do. The entire place made her head spin, as if it was trying to land on a familiar spot. Several times as they made their way to a big building just around the corner from the entrance, she found herself with the sensation of déjà vu. If not for the fact that she had never ventured this far south, she would swear that she had been here before. Many times the man had turned around to stare at her for only a moment.

"Before we go in to see the Hokage, I need to ask you something." He had stopped right in front of the door, blocking her path. "Does any of this place bring to mind anything?" The intensity of his stare flustered her. This question was exceedingly important to him, and she knew that her response was going to be devastating.

"I don't know what you're expecting, but no. There is a very vague sense that I may have seen this place before, but my People are nomadic. We could have gone through any number of places like this." She flung her hands up to indicate the shops and office buildings. Nothing about them was particularly special.

"Ok. I just needed to know if this was… entirely necessary before I rushed you in to see her."

She tried to hide the jolt of annoyance that he could possibly consider it to be unnecessary for her to get her People help. They stepped together from the warm summer day into a blistering heat of an unconditioned office space. People were crammed in every nook and cranny, sweating and yelling and doing paperwork. She felt distinctly foreign here, as though she were an alien from far away. For as long as she could remember she had been in open air, rarely stepping into a building for anything. The heat of so many bodies shoved into one place left her nearly claustrophobic. Working through the uncomfortable feeling, she followed the man inside.

Standing behind a desk overflowing with papers, folders, and shot glasses was a busty blonde haired woman. Brown eyes glanced fleetingly at the guest before returning to the monstrous stack in front of her before shooting back. The back she had stared at for a week now was as rigid and tense as ever, but this time so what the face to go with it. His eyes were uncovered, but his mouth was not. The woman that she could only assume was the leader gaped at him and pointed with a shaky finger at her. The pale woman had grown considerable lighter in the few seconds since she had entered the room. Such a strong reaction was not expected. In all honesty, she had quite assumed that this leader was expecting her.

"S-sakura?" At the mention of the name, a shot of pain charged through her pink head like a knife. What was this giant of a woman doing to her? "Is that you? Did you find her?" The questions were confusing, and a loud buzzing roared through her ears.

"Tsunade, stop. She doesn't know. It's her, but she doesn't know. I need to talk to you privately. Can you please have Shizune come in and escort this woman to a hospital room to be examined?" The question was directed at Tsunade, who she could only assume was the blonde woman, but he did not stop staring at her.

"I don't know what? If you were already aware that I didn't know where your mystery woman was, why did you bring me?" She could not tell if her voice was loud or not. The roaring in her ears was becoming deafening. The room was starting to darken. "What did you do to me?" The pain was excruciating. Concern deepened the lines around the man's eyes before he reached cautiously towards her. Instinct told her to back away. Someone came behind her and tried to calm her, but they used something foreign and invasive. Though whatever they used was cool and fluid and nearly indescribable, she could not trust it. She could no longer see the room around her and her awareness was starting to fade. Before everything faded to complete black she heard a voice, deep and calm and reassuring call out to her.

"Be calm. It's going to be okay." The touch to her cheek that followed the words sent such a shock of comfort through her that the pain in her head retreated. The dark started receding, replaced by blurred greens and blues and a shadow that seemed to interrupt the scene. The clearer the vision became the easier she could distinguish the crooked smile and roman nose hopping in front of her. Those clashing eyes danced in mirth around her. She heard her own laugh echo in the confines of the vision. Several moments passed before she realized this was a sparring match. Every detail was so real, from the rustling of the leaves to the smell of the grass. Even her muscles ached from the workout. Had her mind created this? Despite the entire lack of attention allotted to the scenario she was somehow playing a part in, her voice rang out across the field without hesitancy.

"Kakashi! Disappearing was against the rules." To her surprise, her captor actually responded to the name, rushing up behind her and sliding his hands around her waist.

"Well, I've never really held much regard for the rules, now have I Sakura?" The name, said a second time now in a vision, jolted her awake.

The world around her was fuzzy, as though she looked at it through a fogged mirror. Three shapes that looked just slightly like people surrounded her. One she distinguished almost immediately. The other two took a bit longer, although one she did not recognize even after he appeared more sharply. The man her vision had identified as Kakashi loomed over her, his eyes wide and the black spots spinning very slowly. The blonde woman, Tsunade, was not looking at her, but across the way at a steadily beeping machine. Yet to be identified was a blonde haired, blue eyed man. His expression was conflicted, as though he was unsure whether he should be angry or happy. He was the first to notice that she was awake, though those red and gray eyes stared dauntingly into her own.

"She's awake, so you can stop the Sharingan. She seems to have broken from it on her own." This electric blue stare seemed critical. "I keep trying to tell myself it's not her. But it is. There's just no way someone can look that much like her."

"Tsunade, how does it look?" Everyone seemed to have ignored this stranger. "Is there some kind of damage or something? Is it fixable?" The words made so sense. She had not been in an accident. She had merely exhibited the same symptoms that the rest of People were described to have experienced. In a way, nothing could be better. Now she would be sure to get help, as they would be able to work out whatever was wrong in her.

"There is a cluster of chakra over particular neural transmitters. My assumption is that these have to do with the memory loss, but assumptions are horrible things in the medic world. For all I know the chakra is causing something else and the memory loss is merely a symptom. Without any knowledge of her history for the last five years, we simply cannot be sure of anything. I can see if there are any changes after a week, and then tentatively I may be able to begin diagnoses. With everything being so near vital functions in her brain, I fear that it may be too risky to attempt recovery." The news was very apparently not what the silver haired man had wanted to hear. His face went suddenly pale. "I'm sorry Kakashi."

Suddenly the vision made sense. With what the blonde boy had said, this Kakashi man had evidently created a vision for her to ease whatever procedure they were doing. So the entire scene had been of his own invention, probably of something he had experienced with his wife. Being the female, she assumed the only female role available. She must look remarkably like this Sakura woman, which may explain some of the uncomfortable behavior that Kakashi had exhibited. Why would he choose a vision of his wife to involve her in if it was such a personal matter to him?

"Does that mean you cannot help the People?" Her voice sounded different, far off and quiet.

"It means that I may not be able to help you, or the People. And for that, I am very sorry. I will do everything in my power, but you may never be able to return to your previous life."

"Previous life?" The pain was beginning again, though less strong than before. Instead of being agonizing and sharp, the sensation was detached and merely annoying.

"I never told her Tsunade. I was afraid I would scare her away." The words were empty, as though they came from a man who had lost the world.

"You mean she doesn't know? About you, or here, or anything? How did you get her to come with you?" At the guilty look on his face, Tsunade frowned. "You're a right idiot sometimes, Kakashi. Although I can't say I blame you. There's no telling what's going to happen now. All of you, get out of the room. This lady and I need to have a good long talk." With an air of authority that was entirely unexpected she ushered the two men from the room and slammed the door.

"Who are you?" The question was straight forward and entirely neutral.

"Leader of the People. I cannot reveal my name as I have already told that Kakashi fellow. My People believe that to reveal your name is to give that person power over you."

"Ok then. When were you born?"

"B-born?" The thought had never entered her mind. One morning she had awoken with the People and they had helped each other survive since.

"Yes, your birthday. You do remember your birthdate, right?" A pair of thin blond eyebrows raised in surprise.

"I've never thought about it." It sounded unimaginable even to her ears. How does one not ever think about their beginning?

"What about your parents?" As she shook her head, the woman continued. "Do you remember anything from your childhood? At all?"

"No, I've never really given it much consideration. I… I don't know." Her heart rate skyrocketed. How had she not every thought of these things?

"Can you tell me anything that has happened preceding 5 years ago?" Tears welled in her eyes as she once again shook her head no. "It's going to be ok, just remain calm ok. I'm going to use my chakra to calm you down some, ok? I will not affect your awareness or anything other than your heart rate. I just need you to calm down." The woman was speaking low and soft.

"W-what's chakra?" Her breaths were coming in short gasps, evidence she knew of her rising panic. Who was she?

Despite everything else they had established in this conversation, the last question seemed to still surprise Tsunade. "You don't know what chakra is?" To try to keep the room from spinning she had to close her eyes.

"No, I very clearly asked what it was. I did so because I do not know what it is." The anxiety heightened her aggravation and left her comment scathing.

"It is energy all the ninja of the leaf village use, with the exception of two. 'It is something… it is a tool you used to excel at."

"I've never used chakra before. I still don't even understand what it is."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to explain all of this to you."

"I am NOT who you think I am. I am the leader of the People; I have risen among the nomads to be one of the most powerful leaders. I do not need this energy, and even though I may not know other things, I do know who I am." The pure and sudden anger lifted the remaining fog and drove back the anxiety to push her up out of the bed. "I need you to tell me you can help the People, or I will leave." She had not even realized that she had grabbed the woman until her green eyes were inches from the other woman's, and fear actually presented itself to her.

"I can help you and your People, but it will be extremely risky. It may also reveal things that you find troubling." Rolling her eyes, she put Tsunade back down.

"I will not stay here. I am not a lab rat and I will not be told that I am some woman that may or may not have died by now. Is there anywhere else I can stay?"

"You can stay with Kakashi. You are familiar with him and him with you. This way you do not have to try to get to know someone else while I'm poking around in your brain." With that Tsunade dusted off her dress and left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She remembered the feel of Kakashi's arms around her, and remembered the familiarity of his name on Sakura's lips. If Kakashi was still hung up on this wife of his, he would know the difference, wouldn't he? Surely he did not believe that she was Sakura?


	6. Silver III

**And your light's always shining on,**

**When I've been travelling oh so long,**

**I've been travelling oh so long.**

**Silver III**

He held her for only a short time, afraid she would awaken. Or even worse, that he would fall asleep and forget. They were close to town, and soon he would know what his future held. The mixture of fear and anticipation made his stomach churn and his eyes wide open. Despite the lack of any sleep, he was up early the next morning getting everything together. He had always been the type to prefer tackling the difficult things first. Nothing was going to be more difficult than meeting with Tsunade. Or at least, nothing would be more difficult if she told him there was nothing she could do.

The thought forced his eyes over to the sleeping woman on the grass before him. She slept deeply, but without peace. Though in the beginning of the night she had lay quiet and still, the longer the night wore on the more she turned and mumbled. Most of the words were incoherent, although his heart had nearly leaped from his chest when he thought for a moment she had said his name. She did not awake and her murmuring continued. The most likely explanation was that his wishful mind had imagined the call on her sighing breath.

She did not wake until he was nearly done cleaning up. She thankfully cleared her makeshift bed area on her own and did not try to engage in conversation. Her eyes remained far off for most of the day. The closest they came to actually talking was when he mentioned that they should be in town before the end of the day and she responded merely with a twitch of her lips upward. Although he knew she had a lot to think over, he could not help but wish that the easy silence could be broken by any sign that she had a twinge or a flicker of recognition. Everything would be so much easier if he could just waltz in the village and proclaim that he had found his wife after all these years. Instead, he would have to explain to Tsunade what had happened, which really equated out to he had no earthly idea.

By noon they had reached town and were heading to the office. Pink hair swished around occasionally as she turned her head sharply at some building or another. If he had any guess, some part of her recognized this place even if her consciousness did not. Before stepping inside, he had to make sure. Tsunade's immediate response would likely be one of surprise and confirmation. He would not have time to explain anything or ask for a private place to talk. Her expression was impatient, but he did not mind as much as he would have minded her suddenly remembering Tsunade after abstinently not having any idea who he was.

"Does any of this place bring to mind anything?" The truth was, if she started remembering things now he would be devastated. He had half feared that the only person she would not remember would be him.

"I don't know what you're expecting, but no. There is a very vague sense that I may have seen this place before, but my People are nomadic. We could have gone through any number of places like this."

"Ok. I just needed to know if this was… entirely necessary before I rushed you in to see her." He had to hold in his sigh of relief. Though he felt guilty for thinking it, he was glad that he was not the only thing she had left behind.

In an attempt to be unobtrusive, Kakashi entered as quietly as possible. Tsunade did manage to notice them, but from what he could tell she did not grasp who exactly was in her presence. The moment she did he knew immediately, as she turned at least three shades paler. He tried to voice with his expression and posture that all was not well but she was so intent on his guest that she hardly saw him. She pointed with a shaking finger at the woman in front of her, as though she was seeing a ghost.

"S-Sakura?" As soon as Tsunade said the name, Sakura's hands shot up around her head and her eyes lost focus. Even her breathing turned rapid and uneven. "Is that you? Did you find her?" The questions seemed to upset Sakura even more.

"Tsunade, stop. She doesn't know. It's her, but she doesn't know. I need to talk to you privately. Can you please have Shizune come in and escort this woman to a hospital room to be examined?" He would have to talk to Tsunade while Shizune had Sakura in the exam room. If this was her reaction to recurring memory, he may have found the cause of the People's illness.

Sakura yelled something about the mystery woman but he was too concentrated on her sudden onslaught of symptoms to hear what she said. She was covering her ears and leaning over with her eyes clenched tight against some unknown pain. When she opened her eyes briefly, he tried to reach out to her. Her immediate recoil left him feeling cold. The feeling was only slightly abated when she jumped away from Shizune's attempt to soothe her with chakra. Once she began to fall Kakashi rushed to catch her. Immediately employing his Sharingan, he tried to pull her into a place where she would feel calm and in control. At first her fear caused her to be reluctant. He whispered reassurances to her and smoothed the worry lines on her cheeks until her heart rate stopped racing. With her eyes closed, it was much more difficult to truly ensnare her into the vision.

He could not know what she was seeing; only the effect it had on her. He held her as Shizune led them to a room and had him put her on a table. Tsunade slowly and carefully examined her brain, using chakra in place of the more invasive procedures. While the Hokage searched her ex-students brain for signs of what was causing this, Shizune rushed to tell Naruto that his team mate had been found at last. She had already been told a brief version of what had happened so that Naruto would not be too horribly disappointed when Sakura did not recognize him. He put every ounce of power he could into keeping her under while Tsunade prodded her mind, afraid that if she awoke to feel the unfamiliar presence in her mind it would cause irreparable damage. As long as she was cooperative Tsunade could guarantee that all she was doing was looking. The moment Sakura's defenses went up the chakra may respond in kind and sever something.

Tsunade seemed to satisfy herself with whatever she found and began checking vital signs and rates. She had just begun the pulse when Naruto showed up. Almost the exact moment he stepped beside his pink haired friend her eyes fluttered open. Kakashi was only vaguely aware that she was awake as the Sharingan refused to shut off. He had overworked the cursed eye and now it tried to pull him into whatever vision Sakura had seen. What had calmed her would be merely torture for him, as he was not sure what or who her life had consisted of before he brought her here.

"She's awake, so you can stop the Sharingan. She seems to have broken from it on her own." There was a hesitancy in Naruto's voice, as though he was trying to make sense of this ghost returned from the dead. "I keep trying to tell myself it's not her. But it is. There's just no way someone can look that much like her."

"Tsunade, how does it look? Is there some kind of damage or something? Is it fixable?" He knew he sounded desperate. He did not care.

"There is a cluster of chakra over particular neural transmitters. My assumption is that these have to do with the memory loss, but assumptions are horrible things in the medic world. For all I know the chakra is causing something else and the memory loss is merely a symptom. Without any knowledge of her history for the last five years, we simply cannot be sure of anything. I can see if there are any changes after a week, and then tentatively I may be able to begin diagnoses. With everything being so near vital functions in her brain, I fear that it may be too risky to attempt recovery. I'm sorry Kakashi." The world around him turned bright at he experienced a burst of heightened senses directly followed by a dulling effect. For a moment he thought he may break down in front of everyone, a situation he had never found himself in. He immediately calmed, finding that no one had seemed to notice his slip in control.

Sakura mumbled something from the hospital bed that he could not understand, but Tsunade seemed to hear just fine. The two talked briefly before he heard Sakura question what Tsunade meant by previous life, to which he internally flinched.

"I never told her Tsunade. I was afraid I would scare her away." His chest felt hollow and his mind buzzed with the need to move, fight, DO something to alleviate the grief. Maybe he should go on another mission.

"You mean she doesn't know? About you, or here, or anything? How did you get her to come with you?" She must have guessed what happened, because instead of questioning him further she just sighed. "You're a right idiot sometimes, Kakashi. Although I can't say I blame you. There's no telling what's going to happen now. All of you get out of the room. This lady and I need to have a good long talk."

The moment he was free from the room he rushed to the training fields. All the years of frustration now translated into anger as he dwelled on the hopelessness of it all. In order to get his wife back, he would have to convince her to undergo a procedure that could potentially kill her. There was no way he could ask her to do that. There was no way she would agree to it even if he could. All of his years of searching, all of the dreams of bringing her home and living a happy life, all of the missions, and all of the praying; it was all for naught. He would never have her again. Every heartbreaking realization sent his fists through trees and his legs to crush straw men. Sometime during his fit throwing Naruto came to watch.

The boy had grown more patient and less loud since the disappearance of his two friends and the subsequent obsessive search his teacher embarked on. He had learned from Sasuke that he should not expect Sakura to return. In a rare disagreement that turned loud and ended with an awkward silence that still had not ended Naruto had chastised Kakashi for his continued searching. That night had revealed the deep scars left on the young man by his inability to protect both of his friends. Clearly he had not thought through the inevitable magnified feelings of inadequacy reflected in Kakashi's own mind. The two had taken very different routes with their pain, and Kakashi could only assume that if he ever found Sakura the boy would express an overwhelming guilt at his lack of faith.

He had not been wrong. After his body was exhausted and nearly limp from overexertion Naruto walked within hearing distance.

"How did you know?" The words were weak.

"I would've known if she died." Closing his eyes, he remembered the day he finally admitted to her how he felt. Something in him had drowned and he had never wanted it back. If she had died, he would have known. "The big worry is that I was never going to find her. I may as well not have."

"Don't say that! Tsunade will help her. Tsunade can heal her." There was more hope in that sentence than Kakashi could manage to muster.

"What if it doesn't matter? What if she remembers and just doesn't want to come back? She has a whole life, a good life, without us." He kept the emotion from his voice. The matter of fact statement seemed so cold that it nearly made his reel.

"Even if she doesn't ever remember, Kakashi, can you stand to let her go?" The blue eyes stared down his own conflicting gaze. There was a message hidden in that question. A challenge. A confession.

"If you ever tried, I would cut your fingers off." It was not stated with heat or anger, just as a chilling promise. He did not embellish it with fists or even a change in expression. Maybe it was this unemotional delivery that sold it, but Naruto knew that he could never attempt. Long ago he had lost Sakura to Kakashi, and no matter the circumstance that would not change.

"No worries, I would never have the courage regardless." The uncomfortable air between them seemed poisonous. Where had the golden days of team seven run away to?

A young woman from the Hokage's office came around the bend and saw the two standing defensively together. Hesitantly, she walked up to Kakashi.

"Sir, the Hokage is asking for you. She says it has to do with… with Sakura." The disbelief was evident on the woman's face.

"I'll be right there." Turning away from Naruto, Kakashi had a moment of regret for all the ways his surrogate family had fallen apart. "Naruto, I am sorry for all you have been forced to go through. Someday, it will get easier."

Once he reached the office he saw a rather miffed Sakura and an equally annoyed Tsunade. This did not surprise him in the least, as they had always been very similar.

"Yes?"

"Kakashi, our guest is to stay with you. I do not want to hear objections; no you cannot take a mission. You are to make sure that every morning she reports to me for an exam and you are to then make sure she is kept safe and healthy at your home. If there are any changes you are to notify me immediately. And I do mean ANY changes." His heart skipped a beat or two. "And even if she does not remember her origins, you are to act as though nothing has changed. Just don't end up on a gurney." She stomped out of the room with all of her usual grace and he was left facing down his current conundrum.

"I am not Sakura. I figured that being her husband, you would already know that. However, that mulish woman will not believe me."

"So, what's your name?" He would be damned before he lived with his wife and just called her 'hey you'.


	7. Minerva IV

**Everyday I'm psychoanalyzed,**

**For my lover, for my lover**

**They dope me up and I tell them lies,**

**For my lover, for my lover.**

Author's note: Beginning here, the scenes will no longer be parallel, but instead they will be intervals. The next chapter will be entirely new content.

**Pink IV**

"So what's your name?" He was audacious enough to ask her again, knowing what the question meant.

"I told you, I wasn't going to tell you. I don't trust you with that much of me."

"Well, you better get to trusting me. As long as you live in my home, you will be referred to by name. Besides, you know mine by now. It's only fair."

She contemplated it for a moment. Her options were limited. She could either tell him her name to know that she would be able to get help for her people or she could hold her ground with the risk of getting kicked out entirely. There was always the chance that he was bluffing, but that was not necessarily logical. He had gone through a lot of trouble to get her here. Beyond that, he had gone through a lot more trouble to help her now that she was here. As uncomfortable as it had been to experience his memory with his wife, Tsunade had explained the alternative. The man before her was responsible for her continued functionality. Despite his help she could not help the feeling that he had held a lot of secrets from her already and continued to do so.

"If I tell you my name, will you make me a promise?" She reached up to his mask and pulled the thin cover down, watching for any signs of fabrication. Instead, his expression went completely blank.

"Depends on what that promise is. I make it a point not to agree to things without knowing what I'm agreeing to."

"Don't lie to me, by omission or otherwise." She continued watching his face, noticing that he did not twitch or hardly breathe.

"I promise not to lie, in any stretch of the meaning." Though he did not look at her, she believed him.

"My name is Minerva, after a goddess of war. They have named me that, as I train and lead them in defense of the People."

"Minerva." He said the word with hesitancy and surprise. With a skeptical raise of his eyebrow, he accepted the information and moved on. "Well, I assume I'll have to take you home. Don't worry, Tsunade will fix you up, and then she'll fix up your people. Are you sure all of them will be willing to take the risk?"

"Do they really have a choice? The pain I experienced was immense. And… Tsunade mentioned some things that trouble me. Once the same questions are brought to the attention of my Brothers and Sisters they will have the same worries."

"I guess you're right." His words were clipped and careful now. For a moment she remembered the calm quiet from the forest. Their tenuous acquaintanceship seemed to have started over. She could not help but feel that this had something to do with the vision he had shared with her. Right now, she was just ready to rest. The time for questioning and discovery was later. Much later, if she had her way about it.

He led her through a few barren streets and into a moderately nice neighborhood. The house was quaint, yellow with a blue border. The windows sat happily above small flowerbeds, with happy patterned curtains peeking shyly through the glass. This place was the opposite of what she had expected from him. Everything was well taken care of, from the tropical plants in the front yard to the cleanliness on the inside. The furniture appeared brand new, the kitchen and dishes clean, the table untouched. The only detail that kept the house from being entirely perfect was the dust covering most surfaces. Though the house was well taken care of, it had not been truly lived in for quite some time.

"You must be away from home a lot." She ran her finger along the countertop and saw it come away gray. She turned to see him disappearing into a room.

"I have been yes. But if you end up helping me get my wife back, I can be home for as long as she wants. I've saved up quite a bit." His voice slid through the door and into the kitchen. A rustle of clothes told her that he was searching through his drawers for something. Once he found whatever it was he had been looking for, he walked out. "I don't assume you want to keep wearing the same clothes over again. I have some for you here, but they're not particularly feminine. We'll go get you some later." He tossed a shirt much like his at her. In the same bundler were some pants and a belt.

She stared at him for a minute, wondering if he would catch on to her dilemma. After rummaging around the kitchen and putting some water on to boil, he noticed that she was still standing where he had tossed the clothing. Even still, it took him a moment to realize that she did not yet know where she was supposed to change at.

"I was wondering if you would want to use my room. I have a guest room, but you may not want to stay in it. It was put together for my wife's mother, before she died. I was taking care of her until a couple of years ago. Most of her stuff is still in there. It's a little creepy honestly. I'd stay there while you used the main bedroom."

It was a kind offer, but she already felt awkward enough as it was. "I'll be fine. I don't think I'm going to be haunted by little old ladies any time soon." With her decision made, she followed him down the hallway.

On the walls were pictures that brought a slight twinge to her head. This Sakura woman did look like her. She would almost have to wonder if they were sisters or cousins. She had never met someone else with pink hair before. It was no wonder the leader of this town had called her by that name. She could see small differences between herself and the woman in the photos. Her frame was smaller and her face more sharp. Even her eyes were slightly narrower. There were definitely traits that distinguish her from this mysterious woman. Could they be related?

"This mother, did she raise your wife on her own?" The question was phrased innocently, but if Sakura's father had run out on them then he could have very easily sired other children.

"No. Her father died with she was young of a disturbing mental condition. It was a very hard thing for Sakura to overcome." He was staring at her again, watching her examine the pictures on the wall.

For a brief moment she had a flash of a man with a bloodied face screaming in a hospital bed. The vision chilled her heart. She had seen men fall victim to the demons that whispered to the mind. They always seemed to go much more violently than the women. In her heart she felt sympathy for Sakura. And then she felt the same for Sakura's mother, having lost both her husband and her daughter in such tragic circumstances. Maybe it was better that she was gone now so that she did not see the new guest in the house and gather false hope that her daughter was back.

"How did the mother die?"

"She had been experiencing bad health for a long while. We could not get her to go to the hospital. Sakura was almost positive that she had cancer, but her mother was an agoraphobic. It took far more force than should have been necessary to get her to move from her old house to here."

"Why did you make her?"

"I needed someone to watch the house while I was gone. I'm going to let you get dressed now." She had not realized that she had been keeping him. He stopped hovering in the doorway and resumed his activities in the kitchen.

The room smelled dusty and old, barely holding on to the smell of sweet pea and warm spiced tea. The scent made her close her eyes for a moment and picture the woman that used to inhabit the small space. It was a lovely image, but when she opened her eyes again there were only the skeletons of personality left scattered around the room. Books, old and falling apart, lay on the vanity. The bed was neatly made with a baby blue comforter and laced pillows. A journal lay propped up against one of the soft puffs of cotton. Written across the top in a nearly illegible script was someone's name. She could only assume this journal was her mothers.

Opening the cover, she flipped through the first few pages until she reached a short entrance.

_June 1__st_

_Today I watched Kakashi do gardening. For such a war hardened man, I'd never have thought of him as the gardening type. He never was before. He seems determined to wait on Sakura. He keeps trying to keep the house exactly as she left it. It is as if he wants to show her that he has not lived a day since she left. Any fool can see that, but I wonder if my daughter is happy with this. I know that she would want him to move on, to find someone special. I tried telling him. All he said was that she was alive._

_I wish I could believe him._

The letter was not signed. With sudden understanding, she sat on the comforter. Though she may not be Sakura, this man seemed to truly believe she could find her. Over the past few days she had been cold and unrelenting to the poor man. How could she have been as cruel as to throw it in his face that his wife may be dead? He was clearly devoted to her even after her lengthy disappearance. Somehow she was going to help, after her People were taken care of; even if she only found a body.

The clothes lay nearly forgotten on the vanity chair. Picking them up, she brought them to her face and sniffed. Just as the first night when he had accidentally wrapped himself around her, she could smell sandalwood and leather. For a moment she allowed the comfort to resurface before she stomped it down and began to pull off her old clothes. She had never realized how torn and ragged her usual outfit was until her dull, ripped black shorts were sitting on the clean carpet. The dingy red, holy shirt she took off next looked pitiful on top of the brocade cushion of the chair. Once she actually looked in the mirror she recoiled. Her face was smudged with dirt and her hair was wild. She should probably have asked to shower before changing.

Wrestling on the borrowed shirt and pants took no time at all. Now aware of how she appeared, she walked hesitantly to the kitchen. To her dismay the room was empty. A bowl of soup lay on the table with a note beside it. The folded paper simply stated that he had gone out to restock some groceries since he had a guest and to make herself at home. Her rumbling stomach brought her attention to the fact that she had hardly eaten for three days. The soup smelled surprisingly appetizing. When he had cooked only basic rice and jerky for the trip, she had figured that he did not know how to cook. Judging from the looks of the cubed chicken and vegetables swimming in the steaming broth she had been wrong. Of course, she was unsure why she had not realized that he would need to cook for himself.

He would likely be gone for an hour at the least, so she may as well make herself comfortable. Wandering into what she guessed to be the living room proved boring. At the least, she could eat in here. There was a television and a few more pictures. A couple of blankets were folded on the end of the couch and a few magazines lay out on the coffee table. It was not until she was very near done eating that she saw the really interesting collectibles. In a small display cabinet to the side were weapons in varying levels of disrepair. There was a throwing star that was chipped and still had dried blood crusted on one of the spikes. A dagger with a broken hilt was held perfectly level on a glass case, a card with a name and date hastily scrawled across it leaning against the blade. Every weapon had a corresponding label. Had she not been snooping, she would have missed this treasure hidden in the corner. She could not help but notice after reading each card that they were mostly dated proceeding the last five years. The ones that were labeled during those years were far more destroyed and bloody. It was apparent, however, that he had found significance in these deaths.

Heading back into the hall way, she continued past the guest room. The room immediately following the guest room was a bathroom, decorated sparsely with a shell or two. Beyond that was a closet and then what appeared to be another bedroom. Before she had even entered the doorway she could sense something far more tragic lay behind the door. The walls were a bright yellow, with glow in the dark stars glued to the wall. A happy crib with a mobile of hanging lions and giraffes sat against the wall. A toy chest on the far side of the room was filled with stuffed animals and blocks. This room had dust thick in the air and a smell like that of a room that had been shoved away and forgotten. So shocking was the discovery that she almost did not notice the tears tracking silently down her cheeks. Kakashi not only mourned the loss of a wife, but the loss of a family.

Hurrying from the nursery, she went back to the living room and sat back on the couch. Her head was beginning to ache again. This time it was dull and moved from the back forward. Voices that sounded far off made her heart cry out in rage, but she did not make a sound. She heard the door open and something heavy hit the ground. Silver hair and a smooth hand invaded the space before her face. Several minutes later she was calm again.

"Do we need to go to see Tsunade? What happened?"

"I just saw something. Did you and your wife lose a child?" The question may have been insensitive, but her racing heart did not seem to care.

"We were about to try again when she disappeared. She had gotten pregnant, but the doctors had warned us that her body may have a hard time carrying to term. We got excited and bought everything for the room. She miscarried a couple of weeks later." The tears returned, but she was able to keep her composure.

"I'm sorry."

"I am too." Kakashi walked swiftly back into the kitchen and began unloading the groceries. He did not speak to her for the rest of the night.


End file.
